


Nights

by CaesarVulpes



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, Korean-American Sarge, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, maybe some platonic Washnut, platonic Sargeington, set during s12 before they're re-united, somebody please help Agent Washington
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-04
Updated: 2015-04-04
Packaged: 2018-03-21 04:19:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3677193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaesarVulpes/pseuds/CaesarVulpes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Agent Washington's nights only get worse now that they're separated from the others. There's only so much comfort to be had, but he's grateful.<br/>An exercise in platonic/paternal Sarge/Wash feat. Donut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nights

**Author's Note:**

> Not gonna lie, this started as Sargington to see if I could ship it, but it developed into something I can definitely get behind. Sarge is kind of an asshole but he's not 100% a dick, and I couldn't listen to his 'you ever wonder why we're here' speech and not think he's a father.

Out of armor, Wash is small and fragile and weak. He needs the father he once had in North, and Sarge provides it. Out of armor, Sarge is strong arms and radiating warmth, soothing sounds and gentle hands. It shocks Wash, the first time he has night terrors in this place and Sarge is the one to soothe him, to pull him into bed and hold him. To be honest he would've expected Donut. If anyone.

It's a tight fit on Sarge's bunk and Wash still doesn't really have the best control of his limbs but eventually the burly Korean manages to position him close against his chest with a comforting hand around the back of his head.

"w...What...?"

"Got three kids. Eldest is almost as much of an asshole as you. Grandkids too."

Wash laughs. He actually laughs, weak and sad, and soon enough he's crying and then he's sobbing silently into Sarge's shirt. Warm hands skate in smooth circles over his back until he hiccups into silence, until he manages to fall back to sleep. Honestly it's the best sleep he's had in years.

Sarge is the same as ever the next day, and all days after, and Wash is grateful. They both need the normal, even if the normal is often annoying as hell, and barely masking the fear that they might never see the others again. They bicker. Sarge does something stupid, Wash puts it right, they bicker more. It's almost normal. Almost. He's not Simmons, he's not Grif, and Sarge and Donut aren't Tucker and Caboose.

They don't talk about it. There's nothing to be said. They both tell Donut to shut the fuck up the first time he mentions them but that doesn't stop him. In a way it's good.

They don't have sex, and only kiss once, just to see. It's not bad but it isn't a part of their relationship, doesn't really fit. It's unnecessary. Wash is glad they know, and that knowing doesn't sour this thing they've made (and to be honest some part of him had always been afraid that it would be expected of him). It's not really love, not in that sense, not in any sense that Wash can really pin down. Sarge misses his children, his grandchildren. It seems only natural for him to fall into this gentle paternity, for him to smooth his wild hair as the flashbacks fade, to softly talk to him about the grandchildren he spoils rotten-- _Ji Sung, Lucy, Yuna, Haneul_ \--to bring him gently back to reality.

Once, he dreams about Locus, about Locus finally being sick of asking the questions that are never quite there. Dreams about being poked and prodded and inspected and crowded, having his mind peeled open and raw and exposed. Dreams of questions and hands, of memories that aren't his own and begging _please not this please_ and judging eyes on him and it's so real that he wakes up clammy and barely makes it to the head to vomit. He doesn't want Sarge to know about this. He knows him well enough to think it might make him snap and do something stupid.

This time it's Donut who wakes, Donut who understands, doesn't really but listens patiently. He's there with mouthwash and gentle inquiries after Wash finishes his hushed, frantic babbling and pathetic retching.

"Do you need Sarge?", and then when he shakes his head frantically, "Can I touch you?"

And when Wash answers, he has no shortage of gentle touches, of soothing words about how it doesn't have to mean anything, how it's not real. How it's just a dream and wouldn't have been his fault if it wasn't and it's okay that it shakes him so terribly.

(He wants Caboose. Wants Caboose even though he wouldn't understand at all but simply hug him maybe a little too tight. He wants Tucker to make some wildly inappropriate comment that barely counts as a joke, wants _normal_. He wants them to be alive.)

There's nothing said the next day, and Wash is grateful for that.


End file.
